Luck o' the (non)Irish (New Haven Police Romance Series Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Luck o’ the (non)Irish

  New Haven Police Romance Series 1

  Renee Grace Thompson

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2017 by Renee Grace Thompson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All depicted persons are over the age of 18.

  For my dear grandmother who has been gone for nearly thirteen years. I love you and miss you, but your spunk and love for life remains alive and well in my heart.

  Introduction

  Before you begin reading, I want to point out that Cupid, along with his parents Val and Tiny, are from my Valentine’s Day short story, Val ’n Tiny. I had so much fun with them that I wanted to add them into this story as well. They’re only present in chapters one and eight. Lenny is new to this series though.

  If you’d like to read Val ’n Tiny, it’s available in KU at Amazon here. http://amzn.to/2lgKcZr

  If you’d like information about upcoming releases, check out my website where you can also sign up for my newsletter to learn about sales. http://reneegracethompson.com

  I hope you enjoy my book as much as I enjoyed writing it!

  Chapter 1

  Cupid tapped his fingers on the bar, impatience building with each passing moment. “I’m telling you, everything is right on track. I will not interfere when everything’s already going as planned.”

  Lenny, the owner and bartender of End of the Rainbow, shook his head. “I don’t know, man. That woman has the worst luck ever. Amy is her name. It’s like she has a black cloud over her head.”

  Cupid glanced over his shoulder at the petite young golden blonde sitting at a table with four elderly women. The women were boisterous, laughing and talking too loud, but the young blonde sat perfectly still, her head bent over her iPad, not seeming to even know what was going on around her. He furrowed his brow. “Isn’t it your job to spread good luck?”

  “I don’t think that’s what she needs,” Lenny said. He wiped down the bar and gave a quick nod to another table, one occupied by four off-duty police officers. One man continuously glanced over at the table of ladies. Lenny cocked a brow. “Peter’s what she needs. She’s been in town two different days now to work for Betty, and I haven’t seen her ever look up from her iPad. I don’t think she’s going to notice him.”

  “So…” Cupid said, narrowing his eyes, “you want me to shoot her with my arrow?”

  Lenny grinned. “You can, or I can take matters into my own hands. Since love is your thing I figured I’d give you dibs.”

  “There are no dibs in this. Love isn’t your job, it’s mine, and I’m saying everything will be fine. Don’t get involved.”

  Lenny touched his slightly pointed ears, waiting. Hoping. But nothing happened. Either his leprechaun senses had gone dormant, or he was supposed to stay out of this one.

  Cupid sat back and lifted his brow. “Well?”

  “Fine. We’ll re-evaluate next weekend.”

  “At the St. Patrick’s Day Festival?”

  “Sure.”

  Cupid scanned the table of cops. There was an older man, two younger men, and a very young, very tiny, platinum blonde woman with bright blue strands of hair bordering her face. “So what’s everyone else’s stories?”

  Lenny set out a tray of drinks for the waitress to pick up, then leaned on the bar, resting his chin in his hand. “The middle-aged man is Hal, the chief of police. He’s cool, but he’s trying to figure out what to do with the three cops at his table. Peter’s the one who keeps looking at the woman I want you to shoot.”

  “Amy?”

  “Yeah. Hank is a rookie cop, but a damn good one. Peter and Hank are partners for now, but I happen to know Peter’s up for a promotion soon. Lucy, though…” Lenny shook his head. “She’s an angry little lass, fresh out of the police academy. She’s had a bit of a rough go in life. Hal’s giving her some opportunities on the force, but he doesn’t know where to place the little whippersnapper.”

  Cupid watched for a moment, then sat back in his barstool. “They’ll all be fine. Right on schedule.”

  Lenny sighed. “You only know about their love lives. I’m telling you, they’re going to go through some rough patches. At least Lucy will. Hank’s just…well, you would know better about him than I would.”

  Cupid grinned. “Hank’s gonna be just fine. Better than fine.”

  A loud shriek of laughter exploded from the group of elderly ladies. Amy abruptly stood, phone pressed to her ear, and quickly walked away. Her pristine gray business suit fit perfectly, hugging her shape, the skirt falling just below her knees. Her high heels were of a sensible height, roughly three inches as opposed to the normal four of today’s standards. Her hair was pinned neatly in a bun.

  She didn’t fit in at all. Everyone else wore blue jeans and flannel shirts.

  Amy paced back and forth, staring at the floor while she spoke into the phone, her expression serious.

  The ladies continued to giggle as a french fry doused in ketchup sailed through the air and landed in Amy’s chair. Madeline, the woman closest to Amy’s chair, leaned over and picked up the fry, tears of laughter running down her cheeks.

  The cops stood up and pushed their chairs in.

  “Yoohoo, Peter!” Betty called, waving a napkin in the air. “Could you stop by our table, please?”

  “Of course,” Peter said with a sigh, glancing at Hank with a quirked brow. Hank returned a knowing grin.

  Lenny chuckled softly. “Those ladies drive him crazy.”

  Cupid nodded. “I can tell.”

  The other three cops continued on their way toward the exit, but Peter went to stand by the ladies. “Yes, Betty?”

  “Can you stop by the store? The faucet is dripping.”

  Peter crossed his arms. “Did you turn the knob all the way off?”

  Cupid glanced at Lenny. “Why would he ask such a stupid question?”

  “Because they do stuff like that just to get him to come in and visit them. Thursday is quilting day in Betty’s store and they make sure he comes by every time. His dad owns the building, but Peter helps with the maintenance.”

  Cupid turned back to watch the ladies.

  “Fine,” Peter said. “I’ll be there in a little while.”

  Amy concentrated on her phone as she slid into her chair directly in front of Peter.

  Cupid lifted his brow. “Wow, you’re right. She didn’t even notice him standing there. How does she walk around without bumping into something?”

  “Se
e why I’m worried?” Lenny said.

  The ladies’ eyes went wide as they looked from Amy to each other. Dorothy smacked Madeline on the arm. “You didn’t wipe up the ketchup!”

  “It’s not my fault Peter came and distracted me.”

  Shirley shrugged. “Too late now.”

  Amy was busy tapping on her iPad, completely oblivious.

  Cupid glanced at Lenny, eyebrows lifted. Lenny smirked. “This is what I deal with.”

  “Okay, ladies, I’ll see you in about an hour.” Peter tugged his jacket on and walked away.

  The elderly ladies giggled and turned in their seats to watch him go.

  Amy did not.

  Chapter 2

  It was official. Barring any health scares or deaths of loved ones, this was unequivocally the worst day of Amy’s life. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so she just rested her forehead against her car window and stared straight down at the dark, glistening pavement. The trickling drizzle pitter-pattered sleepily, the drops dancing to their own lazy tune in the street lamps’ reflecting rays. So peaceful. So serene. So unapologetically mocking her.

  Her shattered phone lay silent in the puddle of water at her feet. Slick from the rain, it had slipped out of her hand. The umbrella was useless in the whipping wind, but she had tried anyway, only for it to twist and bend, the fabric flipping inside out and back again. Until it broke. It may as well have joined the phone in the puddle.

  Headlights shone on her as a car approached from down the street, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t as if there was no room for the driver to swerve around her. The street was deserted. Not another soul in sight. She had raced to the store straight after work and made it inside just before closing time, but the owner had walked along with her as she left, turning off the lights and locking the door behind him. He was long gone.

  She was alone in this little town that went to sleep as soon as darkness prevailed.

  Cold. Wet.

  And now stranded.

  The oncoming car slowed and came to a stop next to her. “Excuse me, ma’am, are you okay?”

  Amy lifted her chin, too exhausted and humiliated to be scared of any strangers. Her mind told her to be suspicious and on guard, but she just didn’t care. At least if she were kidnapped, the car would be dry and warm.

  Her entire body relaxed and she let out a deep sigh of relief when she saw the rooftop lights and markings of a police car. Thank God. It was the first break she’d had all day. She didn’t even know this little town had a police force. Being the quietest town she’d ever been in, it certainly didn’t seem there was a need for one. But there they were, two men in uniform sitting in a police cruiser right beside her in this single stop-light town.

  She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. “I’m fine, thank you. You?”

  Ugh, she could kick herself. It was the automatic response. The simple words that no one pays any attention to but out of politeness, says anyway.

  There was movement inside the car, but Amy couldn’t tell what the men were doing. Damn the darkness. The deep voice chuckled softly, mocking her silly answer, no doubt. “Fine, thanks. Are you having car trouble?”

  She shook her head, wet hair pulling away from where it had been plastered against her skin. “Nope. At least not that I know of. Had a flat tire this morning but got that changed to the spare.” Ugh, another rambling, dumb answer.

  The man shifted in his seat. “Why are you standing in the rain?”

  She felt like an idiot and didn’t want to admit her carelessness, but pride be damned. It happened to everyone at some point in their lives, and she was desperate for help. It had been a simple mistake, really. She took a deep breath. “I locked my keys in my car.”

  “I see,” the man said. “Your car looks like a newer model. Do you have one of those satellite services you can call to remotely unlock it for you?”

  “Of course!” Being one to never take unnecessary chances, Amy had made sure she had all the latest safety features in place, both in her home as well as her car. “But, well, um…”

  The driver leaned over and spoke through the window. “Did you lock your phone in your car, too?”

  “No. My phone is…” She looked down at the pavement. Her feet were numb from the cold water, but her heels were already ruined anyway. Might as well stick her feet in the puddle and splash around like a duck. She nudged the phone out of the puddle, light rays bouncing merrily among the shards of shattered glass.

  “Oh,” the two cops said in unison.

  The passenger side cop got out of the car and stuck his hand out. “I’m Peter, and this is my partner Hank. Do you want to get in the car to warm up while we figure out what to do for you?”

  A weight lifted from her shoulders. She’d have given almost anything to get out of the cold, damp wind. “That would be great.”

  Peter opened the door of the cruiser and held his hand out. “Let me hold your bags while you climb in.”

  “No!” Amy clutched the bags to the soaked front panel of her coat. “I mean, I can handle it, thank you.”

  Peter persisted. “The back seat of a police car is different from a regular car. You’re gonna have to maneuver around a little bit.”

  Heat traveled up Amy’s neck. The man’s voice was rich and soothing and…somewhat familiar, as if she’d heard it before. But that was impossible. She didn’t know anyone in this tiny town. Hadn’t laid eyes on a single man in the two days she’d spent here. Not that that would have helped. She couldn’t see these men in the darkness anyway.

  That voice though. It did something to her. Sent little butterflies fluttering about in her belly. If he saw what was in her bags she’d be mortified.

  “Really, I’m fine,” she said, ignoring his waiting hand. She stepped one foot inside the cruiser, then carefully pulled open the bottom part of her long trench coat so she could slide in. She bent at the waist and tucked her head down. Pushed with her cold, numb foot still on the pavement. Twisted her body and shoved further inside. Pulled at her soggy skirt stuck to her skin, pushed with her leg, crouched, scooted and shoved until she was almost seated. And then…her purse fell off her shoulder.

  All her weight shifted and knocked her over into a precarious position, spilling out the contents of the bags all over the seat and floor of the car.

  Penises. Penises everywhere. Penis straws. Penis pendants. Penis lollipops. Penis swizzle sticks. A short white veil and five pink ones, along with six hot pink garters.

  “Hmm,” Hank said.

  “Well, then,” Peter replied.

  Amy scrambled to pick up all the penises and shove them back in the bags. “I guess now you know where I was shopping, huh?”

  Peter chuckled. “My guess is Get Lucky?”

  Hank scratched his chin. “That’s a whole block up the street. Why’d you park so far away in this weather?”

  Amy scowled. “Because I’m a professional. If anyone saw me, my reputation would be ruined.”

  Peter slammed her door shut and slid in the front seat, then Hank drove the car into a parking spot. “A professional what?”

  “Accountant. I’m just starting my own business and trying to build up my clientele. I don’t need a scandalous reputation right out of the gate.”

  “What kind of reputation do you think you might get? Get Lucky is a business, just like any other. They need an accountant too.”

  “I know. I just…I have the worst luck in the world. If anything can go wrong, it will.” Amy quirked her brow. “So tell me, what do you think of me now that you know I have a bag full of penises?”

  Peter’s rich voice sent a warm shiver through her belly. “Looks to me like you’re getting ready for a bachelorette party. Either that or you really like penises.”

  Amy huffed. She didn’t have much experience with penises, but the policemen didn’t need to know that. She had never kept a boyfriend long enough to get to that stage of the game. She was cute enough to attract the
boys, but too boring to keep them. Her friends were outgoing and fun and boisterous, so the guys assumed she was the same way. Until they spent any amount of time with her. She couldn’t carry on a conversation to save her life, unless you considered aimless rambling to be a pleasant discussion.

  Peter tapped on the grid separating the front and back seats. “So, how can we help you? Is there a number we can call? Anywhere we can take you?”

  Amy pushed the roadside assistance hotline card with the satellite information through the cruiser partition. “Just give them these numbers, please.”

  Within minutes, Amy’s doors were unlocked and she was back in the comfort of her own car. The twenty minute drive home didn’t calm her down though. If anything, it only gave her time to think about what had just happened.

  The fear of being alone in a strange town. The anger of her ridiculous day. The humiliation of being such a…loser. The expenses for her tire and phone replacements, as well as her ruined shoes. And her designer umbrella. Stupid umbrella.

  She pulled into her assigned parking spot outside her apartment building and sat for a moment. The broken dishes on the kitchen floor still awaited her inside. That was the third thing that had gone wrong today, tripping over the mat and catching herself against the counter, knocking off the cereal bowl and glasses. She didn’t have time to clean them up because she started the day off oversleeping. That was the first mishap. The second was scalding her tongue on her oatmeal, leaving her with an annoying blister for the rest of the day.

  Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her purse, messenger bag, and bags of penises and stepped out into the cold rain. She was sure to hold her keys in her hand this time. Normally she slipped them into the front pocket of her purse so that she knew exactly where they were, but apparently in her nervousness to go to the penis store, she’d missed the pocket altogether.